FAQ: should I curtail grandparent gift-giving?

I know, I know…several years back you read that blog
post about getting your kids four things for Christmas, and your inner
minimalist shouted “YES.”

Something they want,
something they need, something to wear, something to read.

Done and done. It was a formula that allowed you to
simultaneously be a parent who was awesome and
a parent who had more time for Elf and eggnog. You made your minimal shopping
trips, wrapped your minimal gifts, and placed them under your minimalist tree,
awaiting Christmas morning when your kids would gently unwrap their four treasures
(“Remember, kids, Jesus only got three gifts.”) and thank you effusively for
not over-indulging them like all the other parents on the block.

But then, the doorbell rang, with a tone less “Silver Bells”-ish
and more like the death knell of your conservatively sugared sugarplum dreams.
And Gigi and Pappaw exploded into your living room bearing half of Walmart,
wrapped in packages that in no way coordinated with your brown-paper-and-twine
aesthetic. Their eyes burned with the crazed expression young parents everywhere
recognize as a sign of OGS - Over-indulgent Grandparent Syndrome.

The gift haul was mind-boggling. Packaging materials and crumpled paper
blocked every exit. There was much squealing, but none of it seemed associated
with something to read. Surveying the
aftermath, you began mounting your resolve never to let this happen again. Gigi
and Pappaw must be stopped.

But must they? Have they really torpedoed Christmas? Looking
back on my own experience with dearly loved OGS-sufferers I can see how quick I
was to point out the symptoms of their illness: extravagance, impracticality,
frivolity. But I was much slower to acknowledge the symptoms of my own illness.
It turns out I was actually infected with a pretty serious case of FPS – Fretful
Parent Syndrome. It showed itself in three beliefs that, looking back, were
absolutely off-base. I offer them for your consideration, with the benefit of a little hindsight,
in case you’re thinking about dropping the hammer on the grandparents:

1.My kids will be spoiled by this.

No, they really won’t. They may
indeed look forward to Gigi and Pappaw’s visits for less than selfless reasons,
but grandparents don’t typically spend enough time with grandkids to permanently
impact their consumption patterns. Your children’s attitude toward material
possessions will not be shaped by the way they spend one day in December. The vast majority of their formative days
will be spent under your influence, not that of their grandparents or anyone
else. If you teach and model delayed gratification, practicality,
and others-focus twelve months out of the year, a few hours of extravagance at
the hands of a grandparent will be a fun memory instead of a life-altering
event.

2.I have to control this.

No, you really don’t. Resist the
urge to start placing restrictions on grandparent gift-giving. Yes, it’s true
that a donation to the college fund would have been a more practical gift than
a studio-quality Darth Vader costume, but grandparents see gift-giving as a way
to connect with their grandkids. Because it is. Gigi and Pappaw want to give a
tangible gift that will bring them to mind each time their grandchild uses it. Even
if they lack a sense of moderation in the gift-giving department, they are
entitled to give the gift of their choosing. If it is not dangerous, illegal,
immoral, or an ongoing financial commitment on your part once it is given, you
don’t need to step in. Controlling what or how much grandparents can give
communicates a lack of graciousness on our part, one our children may pick up
on. By placing requirements on grandparent gifts, we can inadvertently model a
different, but equally ugly form of entitlement to our kids.

3.I’ve been upstaged by this.

No, you really haven’t. This is a
hard one to trust, especially when Gigi and Pappaw have outspent you by a
magnitude of seven. But the grandparent relationship and the parent
relationship are simply not in competition. When you refuse to let competition
enter your thinking, you allow your child’s love for a grandparent to be what
it should be: an extension of their love for you, not a threat to it. Your children will not compare their relationship with you to their
relationship with Gigi and Pappaw any more than they would compare it to a
relationship with a sibling, friend, or teacher. Don’t fall into the trap of
believing you are competing for their love, on Christmas or any other day.

How can you know if you are free from the grip of Fretful Parent
Syndrome this Christmas? I knew I was headed for recovery when I was able to
welcome grandparent gifts without judging them, bemoaning them, or restricting
them. I learned to express genuine gratitude, both in front of my kids and in
thank-you notes. And I learned to relax in the knowledge that materialism is
kept in check in the everyday moments that God has entrusted to parents.

Perhaps most importantly, I learned to keep in mind that grandparents
themselves are a gift to our children, a vital part of the wider circle who
will cheer for them through the sun and storms that lie before them. No insecurity
of mine should jeopardize that relationship or dictate its terms. More than
that, my willingness to defer to their gift-giving choices sets an example for my
own kids that you’re never too old to look for ways to honor your parents.

Minimalist parents everywhere, I salute your desire to
shepherd your kids toward simplicity. Do your best to pair it with forbearance
toward silver-haired, soft-hearted spenders with whom you share a physical
resemblance, a last name, or, at bare minimum, a deep love for your kids. Should
you find this difficult, eggnog will help.